


Remember All the Good the Purge Does

by literaryempress



Series: My Ask Box Corner [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boyfriends, Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Flirting, Guns, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by a Movie, Jealous Ian Gallagher, Jealousy, Killing, Kissing, M/M, Makeup Sex, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Past Character Death, Purging, Robbery, Tranquilizers, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryempress/pseuds/literaryempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Prompt: <em>Hey there I just realized never have I seen a flirty Mickey:) So what about after being lectured by Ian (again) about being civil, Mickey resorts to flirting rather than fighting with other people to get what he wants?Maybe you can throw in Mickey's reaction to his sudden acknowledgement of his own charm (I always suspect Mickey has self-image issues) and Ian's rising insecurity? I'm going through so much boyfriend drama lately and I need Gallavich-doing-normal-couple-things to cheer me up...</em></p><p>The Purge AU. It's the year 2022. All of Ian and Mickey's loved ones have been murdered in past Purge Nights, but Mickey's father still remained. Mickey wanted him gone, but he and Ian have contrasting methods they wanted to use to break into his home and execute him. That's when Mickey came up with probably the most bulletproof plan ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember All the Good the Purge Does

They only had twelve hours to complete their mission. Otherwise, they would be vulnerable to the state and federal law.

They planned this night for months, gathering up any and all possible equipment they needed. They couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or have any loose screws. One thing gone wrong, and one or both of them could end up dead or arrested once Purge Night concluded.

To think that, in 2016, the Purge legally became a national tradition. Everyone and anyone who’s seen the films feared the day that Purge Night would be their reality.

Now that it is, everyone’s lives are at high risk.

For Ian and Mickey’s family members, it was too late to change anything about it. In the first annual purge, Ian’s father Frank, and two of Mickey’s brothers, have been brutally murdered. The second purge wiped out Ian’s eldest siblings, Fiona and Lip. The third brought Mickey’s mother to her untimely death. The fourth was the one where Ian’s younger siblings – Debbie, Carl, and Liam – met their ends. The fifth took away two more of Mickey’s brothers, along with his little sister, Mandy.

It was the year 2022, and Ian and Mickey were the only survivors left in their family.

Well, _almost_ the only survivors. Mickey’s father, now the Mayor of Chicago, was still out there, and Mickey was willing to do whatever it took to rid that fucker for good.

Mickey was helping Ian with the last bits of his bulletproof gear when the announcement appeared on their small television in their apartment. They both know they should hate having to see the damn message appear on their screen, but this year gave them, specifically Mickey, hope that they would come out successful. They were all they had left for each other, and they’ll be damned if one of those lunatics with the demonic-looking masks ended their lives now.

“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual Purge, sanctioned by the U.S. Government.”

Ian could practically memorize the announcement word by word. He remembered the first time it aired on their television screens. Debbie couldn’t seem to let go of her older brother if her life depended on it – which, in a sense, it did depend on it. The first Purge Night Ian has experienced was the first time he’s seen Carl cry in front of his own family since he was a baby. Fiona wasn’t any better; she was an emotional wreck, probably worse than the Thanksgiving following their mother’s suicide attempt.

The Gallaghers weren’t a bunch that liked to have lethal weapons in their possession, unless said weapons were either a baseball bat or kitchen utensils. They all seemed to have survived the first purge, leaving Frank to get a chainsaw to the neck under the CTA railroad tracks. However, their luck could only go so far, and the two leaders of the six siblings couldn’t protect them for the required twelve hours during the second purge. Fiona got shot within the third hour, and Lip got stabbed within the eighth.

Five years later, and all of Ian’s loved ones were gone. Or at least the ones in Ian’s blood family; his boyfriend was still here by his side.

Mickey was smarter than a lot of people made him out to be. He was athletic, too, which was one of the last things Ian referred to the youngest Milkovich son as. He had taken karate classes when he was very young, and the boxing lessons in his teen years encouraged the strength in his muscles to build. He had been preparing for Purge Night for years, and neither one of them even knew it. Not even Mickey himself.

His father’s mayoral win was one of the reasons why Mickey hated this Purge Night the most. According to the rules of the purge, government officials with ranking ten or higher automatically had immunity from the purge, which was bullshit because no one knew how evil and homophobic this guy even was. He buttered up the media outlets with his charade. Everyone who saw him deemed him as a saint, but none of those people have been kicked and beaten around by him since the age of five.

If anything, Terry Milkovich deserved a death sentence for his past crimes – drug dealing, child abuse, domestic abuse, rape – the list continues. Mickey planned on executing that plan as he promised the moment he left his childhood home with a broken nose and a giant bruise against the hip.

“Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

The sirens were extremely loud. As they went off, no other sounds could be heard over them. The sirens banging against Ian’s eardrums made the redhead even more nervous. He was the only surviving Gallagher left, and he planned on doing them justice on this year’s Purge Night.

But some things were easier said than done.

Mickey saw the anxious look on the redhead’s face from the corner of his eye and sighed. If it were up to him, he would have kept Ian in a protective space while he handled any robberies and murders on his own.

Ian was a persistent ride or die fucker, though, and apparently had more of the brains between the two. His brain automatically directed him to the same thought: _if Mickey dies, I’m dying with him_. Ian would engrave that on a plaque somewhere, and it would drive Mickey nuts sometimes.

Tattooed hands grabbed Ian’s face and tugged it closer to Mickey’s as the older man initiated a kiss between the two of them. This wasn’t a lust for blood or a need for desire kind of kiss. For all they knew, it might be their last kiss ever, and Mickey wanted to get it in before they get caught in the middle of the blood shed.

“No fuckin’ tears, man,” Mickey reminded him for the seventh time today. They had important matters on their hands, and they couldn’t accomplish anything if their heads weren’t in the game.

Ian sucked it up this once, for Mickey. He did a lot of things for Mickey, but he wanted to make tonight count especially. “Okay. Let’s go.”

* * *

Six and a half hours were long gone, and Ian and Mickey have collected a great amount of valuables from rich homes and downtown stores. For every moment they’ve robbed as much money, electronics, and accessories as they could, they felt like they’ve hit the mother load. Their van, equipped with a bulletproof exterior, had about eight-hundred grand in cash and probably more in everything else. With all they have collected, they could probably leave this God-forsaken city and never come back.

But their eyes had to remain on the biggest prize of all, which was relatively fifty miles or so from where their current destination was.

“Feelin’ better, man?” Mickey asked as he drove the van through the deserted streets of Chicago.

Ian’s eyes remained on the passing buildings to his right. “Somewhat.” He wanted to focus on something else other than his family before he really broke down and started becoming weaker than he wanted to be. “So what’s the plan? What are we gonna do when we find him?”

“We shoot him in the fucking face.”

“And…let’s just assume that, now he’s the mayor and everything, he now has guards and shit denying us entrance –“

“It’s goddamn Purge Night, Ian. No one’s gonna give a shit about this smug bastard on Purge Night while they’re out slaughtering their co-workers and childhood bullies.”

“They’ll give a shit once they find out we killed a ranking ten government official.”

Mickey knew already; he just wanted to pretend that, for once, his father wasn’t so Mickey can get his revenge. “The fuck are we gonna get in trouble for though? The goddamn cops aren’t allowed to do anything about it.”

“Yeah, but once they find out that this happened, they’ll start digging up evidence and whatnot, and then we’ll get fucking arrested.” When Mickey stubbornly let out a frustrated sigh, Ian ran a hand over his face, trying his best not to lose his cool with his boyfriend. He knew how much this meant to him, but the last thing he wanted was to lose him behind bars again.

“I’m only asking you for one thing, Ian. Just one thing.” Mickey tried again patiently, keeping his eyes on the road. “When have I ever asked you for anything this major? Just name one time.”

Ian couldn’t. In fact, it was always Ian asking for things from Mickey. If anything, Ian owed Mickey for all those times he’s asked Mickey to do things for him – touch him, kiss him, fuck him, date him, love him. Ian had asked for all those things, and not one time has Mickey ever asked for anything as big as that in return.

Mickey checked the time on his watch. It was 1:39 in the morning. The two men should be tired by now, but the preparation that led them to this night kept them as alert as possible. “There’s a black bag in the compartment drawer in front of you. I need you to get it, open it with your gloves on, and tell me what you see.”

Why the gloves were needed to open a black bag, Ian wasn’t sure. He followed Mickey’s directions, though, placing a leather glove on each hand before opening up the compartment drawer and grabbing a thick bag from the inside. Ian unzipped the zipper, oblivious at first to what was inside.

A plastic bottle the size of a pen was secured in the middle of a pocket, filled to the brim with an unknown liquid. Right next to it was a small, clean syringe and a tiny little cloth to wipe off any and all fingerprints.

“Mickey, you don’t mean –“

“They won’t suspect a fucking thing,” Mickey explained. “All we need to do is get to Dad’s place, find the guards surrounding the perimeter, distract them, sneak inside, and we’ll hit a home-run.”

* * *

The van stopped about a block and a half from their intended location. Mickey could practically taste victory on his tongue, and he hasn’t even gotten on the inside just yet.

“What if one of them catches us?” Ian asks suddenly, observing the building in the distance. It almost seemed impossible to imagine Terry Milkovich affording a place like that after being the mayor for a year and a half. It’s like he never stepped foot in that ratty old Milkovich house to begin with.

Mickey scoffed. “What, are those fuckers ranking ten, too? If not, I can wipe ‘em out with my fists, I’m sure.” When he heard Ian scoff, he turned his head towards him and asked, “you have something better?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t know. Don’t you think we can go a little easy on them about this –“

“You’re not shitting with me, are you?”

“Well, if we’re gonna distract them without alerting the people on the inside, we can play it a little safe, for once. Don’t you think?” Ian suggested with a shrug. “I don’t know, maybe pretend we’re some kind of business worker or some shit. Or maybe a long, lost friend he has seen in years or something like that.”

It was Mickey’s turn to scoff at Ian’s idea. “Whatever, man. If you wanna do that on your own, be my guest.”

“He’s your father, and this whole trip was your idea.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to butter up some irrelevant jackasses and handle business the easy way, either.”

Ian didn’t like arguing with his boyfriend all the time, especially when they were halfway through Purge Night without sacrificing a limb on their precious bodies. They had a few more hours to do this, or they will either leave the neighborhood empty-handed or leave in police custody.

“Don’t you think there are other ways to solve your problems without having to use your fists?” Ian challenged him with his arms crossed over his chest. “Do you always have to rely on your fists to get a job done? You can’t find any other way to handle this?”

“Jesus fuck – why are we having this conversation now?” Mickey asked, getting frustrated with Ian already. “The fuck’s the problem with me using my –“

“I don’t want you to die or get thrown in prison, you piece of shit.” The rise of Ian’s voice immediately shut Mickey up. “This is fucking real, Mickey. This is happening. The Purge is a real fucking event with real goddamn rules, and those rules are going to have consequences if we don’t resort to other tactics. You understand me?”

Mickey sighed. Ian was a drama queen at times, but he knew he was right about this. The odds had to be in their favor if they wanted to accomplish their mission for the night, but they had different views on how they wanted to execute things. Mickey wanted to beat the shit out of people until he got his way. Ian…well, Mickey wasn’t sure what Ian specifically wanted, but in terms of their plan, he wanted anything but physical violence, which wasn’t usually Mickey’s strong suit.

Though something in Mickey’s mind began to click after a moment of thinking to himself. “I have an idea,” he told Ian, “but I know you’re not gonna like it.”

* * *

Ian was in the bushes somewhere across the street from Terry Milkovich’s current residence, keeping a close eye out on Mickey, who had gotten dressed into his sharpest black suit to fit the appropriate diversion he wanted to make. Ian had no idea what this man was doing, but he allowed it since he wanted to prove to Ian that he could do this without physically punching a dude in the face.

“Whoa, whoa! I’m not purging!” Mickey warned the first guard with a gun in his hand with both of his hands up in surrender. It was a genuine shock to him that the guard didn’t recognize his face or anything, unless Terry made it clear to never mention his youngest son. After all, his son was as straight as a box of Fruit Loops. “I’m just here to see the mayor. I had something set up with him.”

“How do I know you’re not purging?” the guard asked, his frown still evident.

Mickey’s walk towards him slowed into a little swagger step, followed by the older man’s tattooed hands falling into his pants pockets. “Aw, come on,” he urged him on with a smirk on his face. “You can’t trust little ol’ me, huh?”

“Government rules.”

“Oh yeah, the government.” Mickey repeated, balancing on one foot and then the other. “Having control over us once again. Ain’t that a bitch or what?” Mickey pulled a liter and a package of cigarettes out of the jacket pockets, wanting to get one good drag out of the way. Ian started to tip toe across the street, checking his surroundings to make sure no one was behind him before he heard Mickey talk to the guard through his earpiece. “You not purging tonight, mister…?”

“Wallis.” The guard answered. “Patrick Wallis.”

Mickey’s eyebrows danced on his forehead. “Wallis, eh?” he asked smoothly, smoke escaping his nose and mouth. “They got you out here protecting the pig in there from the big bad wolf or somethin’, Wallis? Don’t you wanna…I don’t know, do something else with your spare time?”

Ian found a thick tree to hide behind, peeking around in case there were any guards near the backyard. The fence was too high for him to see over. Ian tried not to lose focus on the mission, but with Mickey’s flirting attempts on his mind, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“I mean, I could,” Patrick replied, “but I work for Mayor Milkovich, and I can’t take the nights off on Purge Night, so –“

“But if you could, would you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you could take a night off, would you?”

Ian heard a faint huff through the earpiece. “On Purge Night? What the hell would – would I be doing with my night off on Purge Night?”

“Come on,” Mickey urged him on. “You have to have someone gettin’ on your nerves right now. Who comes to mind?”

Ian started to climb the tree until he could see the backyard completely. About three guards were standing back there, waiting for some kind of ambush to occur. Keeping his balance on the tree branch, Ian grabbed his tranquilizer gun and aimed it at the guard closest to the fence.

“I, uh,” Patrick told Mickey, “I’m a Christian man, sir. I don’t take the pleasure in murdering people, even if it was Purge Night.”

Mickey nodded and ran a hand over his chin. “You’re one of _those_ guys, huh?” Patrick nodded. Mickey huffed out a laugh, pacing around the brunet. “There are no morals on Purge Night, Wallis. It’s just tradition. Get yourself a little loose, why don’t ya?” Mickey had gotten closer to the guard at this point, leaning against the brick of the house and his leg a little too close to Patrick’s. “You’d be doing the work of the people in your religion by wiping out all of the bad guys in this town. Just think about it.”

Ian took a moment to shut his eyes as he listened to Mickey’s breathless, seductive tone through the earpiece. A part of him loved it because his dick is practically twitching as Mickey’s voice passed through his ears. If no one told Mickey that his voice was music to their ears, Ian wanted the first opportunity to do so.

Another part of him hated it because, well, Mickey was using this seductive tone with another man that’s not Ian.

And this Patrick guy seemed to be eating it up, which was a few degrees worse.

Still, Ian regained focus – his erection was making him uncomfortable, but he had to ignore it – and angled his tranquilizer gun one more time, the end of the gun perfectly set on a bald guard with glasses. Ian checked on the other two guards in the yard before he made his shot, just in case they noticed that something was happening.

Ian shot the first five darts, knocking out the bald guy almost instantly. He readjusted his gun on his next two victims, who seemed to have caught on to what was happening. Two more sets of five tranquilizer darts, and they were both down.

The redhead checked the coast around him before making a jump from the tree branch to the grass inside the fence, running to the side of the building and keeping himself hidden in case anyone were to see him through the windows. As he crept towards the back door, he could still hear Mickey talk to Patrick, which started to strike a nerve.

When Mickey had previously asked about Patrick’s wive, the guard started to chuckle to himself. “I, uh, I’m not married…or anything like, um – like that.” Ian could tell that Mickey was doing something right if the man was oblivious to the fact that Ian was in the yard right now, but that didn’t mean it didn’t disgust Ian to hear their conversation.

“Anyone else close?” Mickey asked, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“A lot of them aren’t close, no,” Patrick answered. “My mother had stage four breast cancer at one point, and my father died in the last purge.”

Mickey nodded, biting down on his bottom lip. He had the intention for it to be a seductive lip bite, but now that he was getting more info on this guy’s personal life, he’s come to realize that he can actually relate to it. Everyone closest to him died, and all from the purge. The moment Mickey found out that Terry even agreed to this, Mickey just wanted to punch him in the face.

“Wouldn’t you wanna do it for him?” He challenged, dropping the cigarette and crushing it with his foot. Patrick turned his head, looking a little bit unsure about that question. “Get your hands a little dirty, get a good stab in the guys that started Purge Night for killing your father?”

“Well, um –“

“A lot of mothers die on this kind of night,” Mickey continued, lowering his voice again. “No one wanted it to happen, but it happened, right?” He stepped a little closer to Patrick, making the man feel a little uncomfortable. “Trust me, Wallis. I like a guy who’s up for the job.”

Ian had already gotten himself into the house through one of the open windows in the kitchen, and he could have almost tripped over his own foot and landed on some dirty dishes in the sink, having heard Mickey imply what Ian thought he was implying. Ian shook his head and ignored it, sneaking through the kitchen and checking if the coast was clear.

A guard in the hallway of the house took him by surprise, and Ian ended up shooting five darts in his neck without fail before he was able to shoot Ian with a stray bullet.

“Um, y-you do?” Patrick stammered.

Mickey nodded, licking his lips a little for good measure. “I like the taste of revenge on my tongue, Wallis. Don’t you?” He didn’t get a verbal response from Patrick, but the guy was very gullible from what Mickey’s seen so far. So it was no surprise that his breath started to hitch as Mickey got closer to him.

There seemed to be no other guards in sight, but Ian wanted to make sure he had his tranquilizer gun ready in case one of them came out of nowhere. He slowly trudged up the stairs, turning his head every which way for some kind of trap. He kept his ears open the whole time, and no one else seemed to be in the house.

He made it to the second floor, checking around every corner he could access. No guards were up here, and almost all of the lights were out. From a door to his left, Ian could tell that the television was still on. Terry was probably sleeping with it on.

As carefully as he could, Ian tip toed closer to the bedroom door and took a quick peek inside. The television was definitely on, and Terry Milkovich had passed out into a deep slumber with half of the bed sheets over him. All of the stuff in his room looked as premium as the stuff downstairs, which didn’t seem fair at all considering how much of a bad person this guy was.

Ian slowly stepped through the door and observed his surroundings, ignoring the jealousy that was forming from both Patrick, who was probably milking outside at the sight and sound of Mickey Milkovich, and the luxury that Terry Milkovich was exposed to. There was a glass on the night stand, and only about a couple sips of water have been taken. Ian quickly pulled out the plastic bottle from the black bag, opening it away from his face as possible, and disposing about three-fourths of the liquid into the glass.

Slowly picking up said glass, Ian swirled some of the water in it very gently, but Mickey’s charade was pulling Ian from his concentration. “Just remember all the good the purge does.” About a minute or two later, Ian picked up some heavy breathing and –

 _Mickey is fucking kissing the guard_ , Ian thought to himself. Just great.

Ian set the glass back down on the night stand where he found it and carefully exited Terry’s bedroom. He slowly made his way towards a window on the second floor of the house to observe what was going on outside, and Ian wanted to take it back so badly. For someone who used to be afraid to kiss Ian, Mickey was a good kisser. It was pissing Ian the fuck off.

Outside, Mickey slowly removed himself from off Patrick’s face just in time. A beep from his cell phone grabbed his attention, and when he got a message from Ian saying that the mission was accomplished, he decided to end his performance properly. “Damn, man. I gotta go.”

Patrick frowned, disappointed. “Something happen?”

“Yeah. Emergency at my place. Some fuckers are trying to break in, and my next-door neighbor’s pretty nervous about it.” Mickey started to walk back the way he came in, but he then stopped and turned back around towards the guard. “Hey, I have something else to ask, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you play?”

Patrick frowned. “What?”

All of a sudden, a few darts pierced Patrick’s neck, and the brunet fell face first into the concrete. Mickey looked up and noticed Ian through the second-floor window with the tranquilizer gun in his possession. A smile spread on both of their faces before Mickey glanced back down at the unconscious guard and replied, “Good, I don’t.” Mickey wiped off the saliva that had stuck to the corners of his lips. “Fuckin’ Boy Scout.”

* * *

Purge Night was over hours later, and the news had gotten out that Terry Milkovich died in his own home. For many citizens in Chicago, it was an unfortunate tragedy. For Ian and Mickey, it was sweet victory to their precious ears.

The couple stayed in bed for most of the day now that their mission was complete. Despite the rough ceremonial sex they had, Ian was still pissed off with Mickey. “Are you still bitching about that irrelevant ass prick?” the older man asked.

Ian was silent. Mickey sighed. He didn’t know Ian was paying that much attention to the diversion. Hell, Mickey didn’t even know he could flirt with anyone, much less make someone like Ian feel jealous whenever he did. He never really thought of himself as the flirty, _get any guys he wanted_ kind of type.

“So I take it that my master plan worked a little too well. Is that right?”

“You fucking kissed him, Mick.”

“I told you that you weren’t gonna like the plan in the first place,” Mickey argued, turning his head towards a grumpy Ian. “Remember when I said that shit?” Ian did remember, but that didn’t make him any less angry.

Mickey kicked the covers away from their feet, their naked bodies exposed in their space, and crawled on the bed until he was in front of Ian. He sat on Ian’s lap and brought both of his hands to Ian’s face, blue eyes meeting green. Now Mickey was the one who looked like a puppy wanting some attention, and Ian hated that his boyfriend was cute as hell, trying to be innocent when he was damn well guilty.

“Let me make it up to you again, huh?” Mickey softly whispered before connecting their lips together.

Ian was no longer mad at him after that.

**Author's Note:**

> To the person who sent this, I just want to let you know that this was hard to write because I didn't know what scenario I wanted to put the characters in (I thought about doing this circa season 2, but I haven't re-watched that season in forever; I still need the DVD for it ffs). So I apologize if this isn't the "normal couple things" you asked for (though in this universe, the purge became normal by law, so idk if that counts or not??). Bright side, though: Mickey's prick dad is gone. That's always a plus in this fandom, lmao.
> 
> Here's my [Tumblr ask box](http://promqueen-and-hairgel.tumblr.com/ask) if anyone has any questions, comments, concerns, or prompts. Happy reading. <3


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